The Lost Heir
by Ze Great Camicazi
Summary: There was another heir fighting for Merida... who knew they were fighting so Merida could have what she wanted?


**I so freaking loved **_**Brave**_** I had to add an OC to the Clan heirs fighting for the same thing Merida was, a lass' right to choose who she would love. **

"We are the Clan McCord, my lord and lady," the druid said stepping forward. "My sister and her husband are long dead and I am leader of our clan until their heir is wise enough to take command. May I present the Heir to the McCord Clan," the woman stepped aside to reveal a cloaked figure the hood hiding any feature of their face and the heavy cloak hiding any other distinguishing features.

"Strong and brave the child has faced the Angles and Vikings and has nae lost a battle to date," she said. The cloaked figure did nothing to try to impress Merida and just bowed solemnly.

It was at that opportune moment that the Clan leaders of Dingwall, McIntosh, and McGuffin began feuding. Over something said by a McIntosh to Larid Dingwall. Merida watched as even her father joined in the fight but the clan McCord stepped aside. The druids lined the wall and the Lady Isla stepped away. The heir just stood there, dodging and leaping over the other clans wrestling there.

When Queen Elinor drug the clan Lairds and her husband back to the front of the hall before the thrones. "The suitors shall compete for the hand of the princess on the morrow by competing in a contest of the princess's choosing."

"ARCHERY!" she shouted quickly then regaining composure, "I choose archery."

The clans were then shown to their rooms in the palace. Nula turned to the cloaked figure that stood beside the door.

"Are ye sure this is what has to be done?"

The figure nodded. Nula sighed, "As ye wish. It may be difficult maintaining this façade."

The figure nodded again. "And like yer mother and father ye have no fear," she grumbled in annoyance at the traits the heir was portraying. The figure still said nothing.

"Get your rest, child. We have a long day ahead of us in the morn."

The cloaked figure shifted to the blankets on the floor, and covered up going to sleep.

"Ahh I hope ye know what yer doing, child," she said, climbing into her own bed.

000

The next day was a bustle as the games began. Caber tosses and contests of strength, food and dance, the Scottish games were always a big event. And each of the suitors competed in each of the events trying to woo the princess. And in each event the cloaked figure won.

Finally the chosen game was announced and the king and queen stood to wish the archers luck.

"It's time!" roared Fergus happily.

The three Lairds elbowed their way about as Queen Elinor shouted out, "Archers to your marks!"

"Aye Archers to your marks!" Fergus echoed.

"And may the lucky arrow find its target." The cloaked figure noted the princess move her foot ever so slightly and glanced at the Lady of their house. Lady Isla just dipped her head affirming the heir still shoot.

The McCord champion took up the bow and slung the quiver onto their back making their way to the line, the bow clenched determinedly in the pale hand.

"Oi! Get on with it!" shouted the king with his usual lack of tact and decorum. The first up to shoot was the heir to the clan McGuffin. The burly boy raised his bow in acknowledgment and stepped up to the mark, barely drawing the bow he let his arrow fly. In a most impressive show it hit the target… on the very edge of the painted wood so it didn't even count. The boy groaned in despair.

The heir to clan McIntosh, in a wave of pomp and show drew his bow and kissed at his fangirls at the same time. He let the arrow fly missing the bullseye by a hair. The loss hit the lad hard and he started throwing a tantrum fit for a two year old.

The third heir the heir to the Dingwall clan couldn't even properly draw an arrow from the quiver and then took five minutes to notch the arrow. Then couldn't even keep the arrow on target and it kept tilting to the side. King Fergus got fed up with it and shouted for the lad to shoot… by complete accident he hit the bullseye.

The last heir started to the mark when a fifth figure walked onto the field. The cloaked figure stepped back in confusion as the other cloaked figure stepped to the mark. The figure whipped her cloak off and revealed herself to be the Princess herself.

"I am Merida, firstborn decedent of clan Dunbroch, and I'll be shooting for my own hand!" she declared but as she started to draw her bow but the cloaked figure noticed a problem in the dress. With a loud rip and a shout of, "Curse this dress!" she was free and thus began her march down the field loosing arrows into the targets hitting her mark each time. At the final mark the queen demanded her daughter stop that she daren't loose another arrow!

She didn't listen and released the bowstring sending the arrow flying with such resounding force that it pierced the Dingwall's arrow and stopped only when it hit the bracer behind the target. She then turned defiantly to her mother daring her practically.

Merida was whisked away by her mother moments later for a stern talking too. Isla and the Lairds turned to their heirs and ushered them back to the castle. Isla and the McCord heir started to lag behind.

"You back there, Lass?" one asked.

"Aye! We are just talking my Lairds we shall be along shortly."

"Seems the princess had her own plans eh?" the Lady said. The heir nodded. "What are your plans now?" she asked. The figure let out a sharp whistle and a black horse with white stockings and a white mane and tail pranced forth, blaze shinning.

"Ahh… The lass is going out for a ride?" the cloaked figure pulled up onto the horse and darted off into the forest.


End file.
